


turtle paradise

by scorpionGrass



Series: you can’t put a price on peace (of mind) [2]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 22:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17795588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpionGrass/pseuds/scorpionGrass
Summary: the turks arrive early for a mission in wutai, but end up finishing it up early too.(the don corneo saga in wutai: a retelling in reno's pov)





	turtle paradise

Reno scowls at the old resort town that Wutai has become and wonders if he’ll run into the pesky ninja girl. If this is what Wutai has turned into, a tiny town that goes on about the glory days with a pickpocket for a princess, then he wants nothing to do with it.

(Too bad Shin-Ra has everything to do with everything.)

Turtle Paradise is the only bar, and it’s passable at best. The whole place is filled with the fumes of burning incense, but it’s better breathing in smoke than real oxygen. Midgar is a mess of mako fumes and the scent of death, and all he wants is to be is home under the plate.

It’s been years, but he’ll never be used to the sky.

“I still don’t like this whole vacation idea of yours,” Elena says sourly.

“Too bad,” Reno says, sliding the door to the bar open. It’s easily one of the biggest buildings in the entirety of Wutai and he knows what that says about the country as a whole.

Rude continues to be the silent presence he’s always been as Elena pins Reno with a disapproving look that honestly just reminds him of her pouty high school days, back when she wore two bouncy pigtails and a schoolgirl uniform that fit a lot better than her bulky Turk suit (before her sister died, before she had any idea what everyone was really up to in the Department of Administration).

The bartender doesn’t even give them menus since Reno immediately orders three rounds of shots and the cheapest beers for the table.

“I’m not drinking with you two,” Elena insists, folding her arms across her chest as she sits back in the red wicker chair.

Reno’s lips tilt into a lopsided smirk. “Yeah, okay rookie.”

“We’re supposed to be working.”

“We have the day off. Don’t be such a workaholic.”

“Rude, tell him we should be—”

Rude pushes up his sunglasses, a complete redundancy in the haze of smoke and low-light of Turtle Paradise. “Intel says they won’t arrive for another day.”

“And confronting them with a hangover is a smart idea?” Elena asks, and Reno can’t decide whether she’s offended or outright scandalized.

“What, can’t handle your liquor, rookie?” He accentuates the insult by cocking his head to the side. He can almost see the steam whistling from her ears. “More for me then.”

“I’’m leaving.” she states with a huff.

“Where to?”

She pins him with a glare. “Away. From you.”

When the door swings shut behind her, barely making wind enough to dent the permanent haze of the bar, Rude frowns.

“Harsh,” he says as their waiter drops a tray of shots on the table. He dunks one down and frowns harder.

“Watered down?” Reno asks.

Rude grunts in response.

“Huh, too bad,” Reno drawls, a bit too amused for his own good. “We’re never gonna get a hangover like this.”

“Think she’ll be okay?” Rude asks.

Reno wants to laugh. It’s Wutai and they’re Shin-Ra. She’ll either be unsuspectingly ambushed by one of the Five Mighty Gods (a moniker Reno has always found pretentious) and knocked out since she’s alone, or she’ll leave a trail of unconscious soldiers like breadcrumbs to lead them back to her.

“Eh, her chances seem decent.”

After forever, the bartender finally brings out two bottles of Wutai’s finest beer and drops them on the table too. Reno doesn’t miss the venomous side-eye the bartender gives him before whipping around and sidling back to the other side of his counter (as if it would do anything to protect him). The bottles have already been opened judging by the way the metal caps are crooked, and there’s no pop or fizzle when Reno cracks one open.

“This is the most disappointing bar ever,” he mutters before taking a swig.

Rude grunts in agreement, his own beer only sipped at as his fingers drum against the bottle, leaving prints behind in the condensation. “At least they’re cold.”

Another moment passes and Reno sighs into the haze. “You wanna check on her, don’t you?”

“Mhm.”

“Well fuck, guess we have to then.”

~

There’s a trail of bodies that cuts off somewhere around where the trail to the mountain starts. Reno squints up at it and frowns.

“They call it Da Chao,” Rude supplies.

“It’s probably ‘da place,’” Reno quips back. “I mean, where else would this trail lead?” he steps over one of the bodies and kicks another to the side as he picks his way through the beaten path. The stench of cheap cologne and weed rolls off them.

He wrinkles his nose and turns to look at Rude, who’s already counting the rounds left in his gun and releasing the safety. “They’re not locals.”

“These guys reek of Wall Market. I think we found him.”

“And he’s got Elena?”

Reno shrugs, taking his EMR out of the holster and activating it. “Or Elena’s got him. Let’s go.”

The trek up the winding mountain is hot and Reno questions for the millionth time why the Turk uniform is a black suit and how Tseng is always so cool and composed with a perfectly pressed pocket square and a tie that’s never out of place even in a shoot-out.

It’s probably a touristy vacation spot because it’s so damn hot, he thinks. He says so to Rude.

Rude grunts in response, his bald head as shiny as ever with sweat.

Then they accidentally take a wrong turn into a cave brimming with flames.

“I fucking hate Da Chao,” Reno declares.

Rude hits the ground, taking Reno with him, right as a pillar of flame scorches across the cave, inches from their heads.

“I really fucking hate Da Chao.”

“Same.”

When it’s safe, they book it out of the cave and sprint up more of the mountain. The winding paths are annoying, but Reno can hear angry voices and that sure isn’t who he thought they’d find.

And then he sees blonde spiky hair and frowns. Hard.

“The hell are they doing here?” he stage-whispers, pressing himself up against the cliff wall. “We only had intel on the Don.”

Rude peers quickly past the cliff and pushes his glasses back up his nose. “Think it’s about the princess?”

“No clue.”

Reno unholsters his EMR and his gun for good measure. “Got some warning shots in you?”

“Hold on.” Rude gestures to his ear. “Listen.”

Barret’s voice doesn’t just drift, it pierces the windy silence on the mountain. “That fuckin’ bastard— she’s  _ sixteen _ , Cloud! Sixteen!!”

“It’s Don Corneo, what did you expect,” Tifa says, though there’s an edge to her voice that makes the line sound less flippant. “I’ll kick him where it hurts—”

“Guys, she stole our materia,” Cloud says, voice calm like this is a normal occurrence.

But from the rumours Reno’s heard, he wouldn’t be surprised. A country with nothing left raising a princess who grabs what she can? Only Shin-Ra’s influence could have brought the country to those kinds of desperate attempts at life, nevermind an impressionable princess.

“So he got the princess and Elena… Think he’s holding a beauty pageant on this godforsaken mountain?” Reno asks, rolling his eyes.

“I think he’s turning this sacred place into his whorehouse,” Rude says.

“Wonder why the old man ever did business with that roach. The president sure as hell wouldn’t.” Reno scrunches up his nose.

“But he did do business with others.”

“Don’t remind me.” After a beat, Reno reholsters his gun. “Okay, let’s throw them a curveball. More eyes on this might help us prevent some unsavoury shit.”

Rude nods his assent.

It doesn’t take long to catch up to the AVALANCHE search team. Barret’s out of breath on an incline and the whole party’s slowed down to accommodate him. It also doesn’t take them long to notice when two guys in suits have joined them.

“Nice day for a hike?” Reno drawls. “Or are you looking for something too?”

Tifa’s hands clench into fists. Barret levels a glare at them that feels like a death ray. It’s Cloud that surprises him. He turns around from the head of the group, calm as ever. “He has two up here. Is one yours?”

“Maybe.”

“The motormouth drew too much attention?” Tifa taunts.

Reno feels Rude bristle from beside him. “And your thief wasn’t slippery enough?” he throws back. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter when we’re looking to put some bullets in the same piece of shit you are.”

“Bullets?” Tifa asks, clearly confused. “I thought he was working for you,” she adds, venom lacing the words. “I’m sure you remember the deal you carved out of Midgar’s blood.”

Reno grits his teeth. “Calm your tits, sweetheart,” he says, and she looks ready to break his nose until Cloud sets a hand on her shoulder. “I’m willing to put our grudges aside till we find who we’re looking for, kill him, and retrieve what’s ours. What do you say?”

There’s a long tense moment and Reno wonders for a brief second whether AVALANCHE is telepathically making the decision before he realizes, no, that’s impossible even with materia in the game. He watches as Tifa defers judgment to Barret, and Barret reluctantly stares down Cloud.

“Tell ‘im.” Barret says gruffly.

Cloud’s eyes are bright with mako, acidic and unnatural like a true SOLDIER’s, even though Reno knows better. “Here’s the deal,” he starts. “You do whatever you need to with Don Corneo. We have our grudges with him, but we’re just interested in getting Yuffie back. And when everything’s over… well, we were always enemies.”

Reno grimaces. “Sure are. So, we have a deal?”

Cloud nods. “Let’s go.”

~

The satisfying crunch of Don Corneo’s sausage fingers underneath Reno’s leather shoes, the scream ending in total silence as his grip fails when Reno twists his heel. It’s worth every moment, and Reno finds himself grinning. Of course, he schools every feature back into his devil-may-care, amused but aloof neutral when he turns back to face the party.

“It’s our day off,” he drawls, straightening out his cuffs, “so we’re not interested in settling any scores today. We can throw down some other time.”

If Elena weren’t preoccupied with Rude helping her get down, she might have squawked loudly at the idea of letting AVALANCHE go. Not that Reno cares for her opinion, hypothetical or otherwise, right now.

Cloud watches him warily, and he has every right to. “Until next time, then,” he says, and Tifa’s already got the princess on her feet, offering her a piggyback as the tiny girl sways on her feet. Motion sickness, Reno remembers from a debriefing that happened what feels like ages ago.

“Next time,” Reno nods back, offering a short, half-hearted wave.

And with that, AVALANCHE starts back down the mountain and Reno draws his attention back to Rude and Elena.

“Fuck  _ all  _ of that,” Elena spits, dropping cross-legged to the dusty ground. “Fuck Don Corneo and fuck Wall Market and fuck—”

“I think we got it, ‘Laney.”

She huffs, no doubt to cover her heavy breathing and red face from being hung upside-down on a very steep cliff. “I thought you’d never come.”

“We protect our own,” Rude says, crouching down beside her and handing her his pocket square.

“What he said,” Reno adds.

(He’s had enough of lost comrades to last him a lifetime.)

~

Turtle Paradise is still there when they get back, and there’s no sign of the AVALANCHE crew there so they stick around.

“Our mission was supposed to be carried out tomorrow,” Rude states.

Reno nods, “Yeah, so it looks like we’re clocking out early.”

They both turn to Elena, whose hair is still a mess no matter how many times she’s tried to smooth it down. Her suit is still dusty from the trek, but they’re all a bit worse for wear (especially after a second wrong turn into that damned fire cavern).

“Fine,” she says, but there’s the slightest quirk of a smile at the corner of her mouth. “We’ll do the paperwork tomorrow.”

“It’s settled! Let’s grab some disappointing booze.”

Reno flings open the doors to Turtle Paradise and it’s like deja vu when the patrons and bartender alike glare at them as they waltz in, this time to a well-deserved vacation.

**Author's Note:**

> elena is a badass and so is yuffie, and they'd make an amazing ass-kicking duo. too bad don corneo is one slippery bastard.


End file.
